


Obsession

by Empatheia



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-18
Updated: 2006-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 16:00:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empatheia/pseuds/Empatheia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ultimate fangirl pulls the ultimate stunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obsession

There was a particular art to being a fangirl.

Most people didn't know this. They thought a 'fangirl' was simply a stark-raving-crazy young woman obsessed with something utterly unattainable. They were right, of course, but where was the beauty in that? Oh, no. It was much deeper and more artistically appreciable than that. Renge knew the truth.

Her love for Kyouya went far beyond the shallow, publicly accepted version of fangirlism. Her obsession was to ordinary, run-of-the-mill fangirling what Van Gogh was in comparison to the neighbour's two-year-old's wall-scribbles. It was an _art form._

Everyone knew that truly great art survived undiminished through the ages.

Thus, in the interest of posterity, Renge had now decided to commit the ultimate act of the ultimate fangirl. Future fangirls had to have something to look up to, after all. The fangirls of now would have little fanbrats, and they would need a good role model such as herself to shape themselves after. It was her righteous duty! She had to pass on her legacy!

Kyouya wouldn't like it. In fact, nobody at all would like it. Renge didn't care. Properly worshipping someone had nothing to do with what _they_ wanted, after all. She was going down in the history books as the biggest, scariest fangirl of all time. Nothing in the world could stop her. Nothing!

She cackled and ran her fingers through her hair. The scissors in her other hand went _click, click, snip._

**x**

"Say, Haruhi," Tamaki whispered. "Isn't there something a little... _strange_ about Kyouya lately?"

Haruhi looked up at him quizzically, neck at an odd angle. She was not impressed with being shoved into a curtained corner of the Third Music Room without even a semblance of a request. Just grab and yank and pull and shove, that was Tamaki's style. It drove her insane. "Kyouya-sempai? No, there's nothing wrong with him."

Tamaki's eyes widened and he leaned into her face, staring earnestly at her without blinking. "He _giggled_ , Haruhi. Kyouya. He giggled. How is this not an emergency?"

Haruhi rolled her eyes. "Tamaki-sempai, if you can't figure it out, I'm not going to waste time explaining it to you. Pay a little closer attention and see what you find." She pushed the stunned blond out of the way and left the room.

Tamaki hid behind the curtain again and peered around to watch Kyouya.

The dark-haired vice president was standing in the center of a group of girls, chatting amiably. Scary thing #1. He was nowhere near a laptop (#2), and his glasses were crooked (#3). Tamaki suppressed a shudder of unease. Something was very, very wrong with Ohtori Kyouya, and Tamaki was caught in a dilemma.

He wanted to find out what was wrong, of course. He was voraciously curious at the best of times. However, he also wanted to be as far away as possible when the foreboding feeling he had came to fruition. His fingers wandered to his mouth and he nearly bit his tongue off in stopping himself from chewing on the nails.

What to do, what to do? Investigate, or run?

"Ohohohoho!" Kyouya chortled, and Tamaki choked.

He couldn't take much more of this. "Kyouya!" he said loudly, and stormed aristocratically into the middle of the room. "Why have you changed so drastically? Has something of great import happened, and you failed to tell me? Oh, my vice-president, prince, my right hand! Why have you left me out of the loop? I feel so neglected!" Tamaki hunched his shoulders and dramatically wiped a tear from his left eye.

Kyouya stared at him and nervously adjusted his uniform. "I haven't changed, Tamaki-sempai," he said in what basically amounted to a simper. "It's me, the same good old Kyouya! Of course!"

Tamaki wailed and draped himself across Kyouya's shoulders. "Don't lie to me! You've completely changed! Have you lost a family member? Have you hit your head? Have you... fallen in _love_?"

Kyouya stiffened. "Well, you know about Renge and I... it's really nothing new..."

"But you _hate_ her! You always tell me she creeps you out!"

Suddenly, Kyouya's eyes filled with unexpected tears. "Don't talk about Renge like that! She's a wonderful, devoted, loving girl and I couldn't ask for better!"

Tamaki felt like bursting into tears himself. Who was this, and where had his mysterious, creepy, nearly silent computer-brained vice-president gone? "I don't get it!" he howled, tearing at his perfect golden hair.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Tamaki-sempai," Haruhi said from behind him. He spun around to find her with her hands on her hips and a decidedly unimpressed look on her face. "You mean to tell me you _still_ haven't figured it out?"

"Figured _what_ out?" Tamaki wailed.

Haruhi turned to Kyouya and grimaced. "Having fun, Renge?"

'Kyouya' giggled nervously and backed up. His glasses slipped, and Tamaki suddenly realized that they were the wrong shape. Kyouya's were slightly more oval than that.

Haruhi followed 'him' back step for step. "First of all, where's the real Kyouya-sempai?"

Tamaki gaped.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kyouya said shakily. "I'm right here!"

Haruhi did not look convinced. "First of all, I'm pretty sure last time I checked Kyouya-sempai didn't have breasts. You can tie them up all you like, but you can never quite hide the unique shape of a girl. _You_ are a girl, and Kyouya-sempai definitely isn't. So, where's the real one?"

The glasses fell off. Even Tamaki could see now that the eyes were the wrong shape, the face was wrong, everything was wrong. It wasn't Kyouya. How had he missed it?

"Is that a wig, or did you actually cut your hair off and dye it black?"

"It's real," Renge confessed, running her fingers through her new style. "Doesn't it suit me, though?"

"No!" Tamaki blurted, then looked shamefaced and covered his mouth.

" _Where's Kyouya-sempai?_ " Haruhi demanded, annoyed now.

Renge hung her head. "I'll show you."

**x**

"Why did you do it, Renge?" Kyouya asked softly as Tamaki and Haruhi frantically worked to undo the chains around his wrists and ankles. The room was comfortable enough, fully equipped with video games and fridges full of food. That did not change the level of creepy one iota.

Renge traced designs on the floor with her foot. "I will go down as the greatest fangirl who ever lived!" she said half-heartedly. "I went beyond mere obsession! I actually _became_ you, even if it was just for a day! What other fangirl can say that?"

Kyouya stood and massaged his wrists, blank-faced as usual. His eyes were fixed on Renge, however. She was spectacle-free, but the coloured contacts remained, and her hair was a mirror image of Kyouya's. Her chest was still bound and she wore a men's uniform. She actually looked like quite a passable imitation of him, if one did not focus too hard on the details.

Kyouya would not stop staring at her.

"Er, Kyouya?" Tamaki ventured tentatively.

The vice president lurched forwards a couple steps and ran his fingers through Renge's hair. "Beautiful," he whispered.

Tamaki and Haruhi froze dead and could not move. Kyouya did not praise people, _ever_. Certainly not Renge! Tamaki felt chips of himself flaking off, he was so rigid.

Haruhi, however, was quicker on the draw and comprehended the situation a split second later. " _Oh,"_ she said.

"Oh _what?_ " Tamaki squeaked.

"What kind of person would Kyouya be attracted to, do you think?"

Tamaki turned his stiff neck with effort. "Kyouya? Attracted? The only person he loves is himself, everyone knows— _oh."_

"Yeah. _Oh_ is right."

"Oh _. Ohhhh."_

"With all due respect, Tamaki-sempai, shut up."

"Really, I'm very impressed _,_ could you perhaps just— _"_ Kyouya whispered.

"You too!"

**X**

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: ouran_contest  
> Prompt: fangirls


End file.
